


Surprising The Enemy

by panpinecone



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Decapitation, M/M, Necrophilia, woundfucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 03:12:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18065486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panpinecone/pseuds/panpinecone
Summary: Tucker has to distract Felix just long enough for the others' ambush to work. He isn't counting on Felix distracting them back.





	Surprising The Enemy

Tucker held his breath and peeked around the corner.

Oh, shit, Felix was _right there_.

Tucker gripped his sword tight, ready to turn it on the second Felix got too close—

Felix turned and walked off, brandishing his own sword and yelling out in fury.

Yelling out for him, for _Tucker_.

Weren’t Wash and Carolina supposed to have killed the guy!? He didn’t look anywhere close to dead! Didn’t sound like it either, not with all that hollering.

Dammit, Tucker was just gonna have to go out there and face him, wasn’t he? One-on-one, all heroic and shit. The others were setting up an ambush, but the whole point of an ambush was surprising the enemy, so Tucker had to be a distraction.

He had to keep Felix's attention on him and him alone. He might even have to fight alone.

With any luck, Felix was too angry to think straight.

Tucker just had to _stay alive_.

After getting Felix’s attention.

Yeah, he was screwed.

He kept tracking Felix’s movements as he prowled around the tower, but was somewhat reassured by seeing everyone else getting into position for the ambush. He desperately hoped they’d be able to take the asshole down through sheer numbers, but...

Fuck, he had to stay positive or he was gonna chicken out.

Felix finally wandered out into the open, still yelling and screaming—holy shit, didn’t the guy ever shut up?—and Tucker made his move, stepping out of cover and throwing out his cockiest challenge.

He promptly got his ass kicked, but hey, he wasn’t dead. That was pretty much all he’d asked for.

Tucker heaved himself up as Freckles started shooting and Felix scrambled to activate his hardlight shield, fumbling something into the crook of his other arm and holding it close.

What...?

“Hey, Felix!” he called out, straining to make out the object.

Felix’s head whipped towards him and he could’ve sworn he heard a snarl.

“Whataya’ got there?” Tucker asked, spotting everyone else slowly leaving their cover, weapons aimed and ready.

Felix apparently spotted them too, his head spinning back and forth, but all he did was clutch the rounded object closer.

The decidedly familiar rounded object.

Locus’s helmet.

That must mean...

Tucker immediately called Wash. “Hey, guess what!”

“What?” came Wash’s voice.

“Looks like you and Carolina put Locus outta commission!”

“Good,” Wash replied, followed by the sound of gunshots. “Sorry, can’t talk now!” He hung up and Tucker turned his focus back to Felix.

“Where’s your buddy?” Sarge asked, probably suspecting the mercs to have planned an ambush of their own.

O’Malley let out one of his exaggerated cackles. “Not here, evidently. It’s just _us_ and _him_.”

Felix clenched his fist and screamed out at them all, “He’s fucking _dead!_ Because of _you idiots!”_

Tucker would be lying if he said the statement didn’t make him sigh in relief. Yeah, Felix was a scary dick, but Locus had managed to be a scarier dick without even doing anything.

“Sorry for your loss!” Doc called out, apparently angering Felix all the more.

“ _Fuck you!”_ he yelled, practically stomping his foot. “Fuck _all_ of you! Locus is _gone_ and it’s all you _stupid morons’ faults!”_

His enraged movement jostled the helmet, and something fell from it.

Dripped, to be more precise.

There was a pause.

“Um, guys?” Simmons asked. “What the fuck was that?”

More dripping.

“It’s red,” Sarge spoke, sounding unusually somber given his declaration.

“Red like _blood_ ,” O’Malley added.

The helmet dripped again, rapidly forming a small puddle beside Felix’s feet.

“ _Oh, mierda. Sé una cabeza cuando veo una_.” [“Oh, shit. I know a head when I see one.”]

Donut gulped and replied, “You’re right, Lopez, and it’s not the good kind either...”

“Okay, I’m lost,” Grif said. “The guy’s dead, of course there’s gonna be blood in his helmet.”

Simmons turned to him and explained, “Yeah, _some_ blood. Not _that_ much.”

For a while, no one said anything, all of them focused on the steadily growing pool of blood.

Tucker couldn’t take the tension anymore. “Is that his _head!?”_ he blurted out.

Church projected beside him to eloquently weigh in, “ _What the fucking fuck!?”_

“I wasn’t gonna leave him there!” Felix growled. “I’m gonna kill every last one of you, and he’s gonna watch!”

Grif shook his head. “And here we _already_ thought you’d lost it.”

All of a sudden, everyone was talking at once—listing off all the horrible things Felix had done, hurling accusations at him, pointing out how weird it was to carry around a head—but Tucker kept watching the dripping.

It was so _much_ , and it just kept _coming_ , thick and red and slightly white...

Wait, what?

“It’s not just red,” Tucker said.

The chatter stopped as everyone turned their attention back to him.

“...It’s lighter...”

“Like a lightish red?” Donut asked.

“Yeah, like—” Tucker stopped.

He stared at Felix, still standing there with his sword at the ready and Locus’s helmet held close, and the puzzle pieces suddenly clicked into place.

“...You _didn’t_.”

Felix didn’t reply, but he didn’t need to. The more Tucker stared at the puddle, the more he recognized that all too familiar white.

“Oh, God. You are a whole other level of messed up.”

Felix shifted his feet and bent his knees, taking on a fighting stance, but fighting was the last thing on Tucker’s mind.

Right on cue, Grif asked, “What are you talking about?”

Tucker shouldn’t say it. It was too fucked up.

He said it anyway.

“There’s something white mixed in with the blood.”

“So?” Grif asked.

“So don’t ask me how I know this, but it’s exactly what you think it is.”

Another silence followed his words.

“...Hey-Chicka-Bump-Bump,” Caboose provided.

“ _We need each other!”_ Felix snarled, taking a step back. “So I left some of me in _him_ , and some of him in _me_.”

“Wh- _What!?_ _”_ Simmons squeaked.

Felix’s free hand drifted to his front, rubbing back and forth across his stomach. “Just a little, just to take the edge off. I needed the energy...”

“What the fuck!” Tucker exclaimed, completely past the point of containing himself.

“He’s always been so useful,” Felix went on, hand still running over his front. “Alive or dead, always useful. Even right now.”

It was _too fucking much_ , how were they supposed to deal with a guy who was this batshi—

Felix’s hand lunged for his gun and everything was chaos.


End file.
